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“Yes, it’s me! What the fuck, Reed? This place reeks, and so do you.”
I glanced at him—from his shaggy hair to those amber eyes, to the full lips that were locked in a perpetual pout—and gave him my preferred finger.
“How the hell did you even get in here?” I yelled back and immediately regretted it.
My head felt like I’d taken a few hits and my ears were ringing.
“Jesus, how much have you had to drink? We exchanged keys back when we were actual friends, remember? I never gave you back yours, and apparently, you never changed the security code, genius. Now get your ass in the shower. We’re going to clean up this mess and change Grant’s litterbox since you obviously haven’t done either in weeks.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I fired my housekeeper. And I can take care of myself! I don’t need you cleaning anything. Get the fuck out of my house!”
I finally pushed myself upright and everything began to spin. But I didn’t let that stop me. Shoving the sheet aside, I stood up quickly, and nearly lost my balance.
Tate grabbed my shoulders, but I pushed him off. “Don’t touch me!”
“Reed!”
But it wasn’t Tate calling my name.
I blinked and I realized that it wasn’t just Tate standing there, but Henn and Charlene too.
Henn was picking up empty bottles off the floor, and Charlene had what looked like a stack of my clothes in her hands.
“What the… what the fuck is going on here?” I demanded. “Why are you all here?”
“Your sister called me,” Tate snapped and rubbed a hand over his beard. “You haven’t responded to her messages for three days. The last time she spoke to you, you weren’t making any sense, slurring your words. She’s worried out of her goddamn mind!”
“How did she get your number?”
“We exchanged them at the funeral, remember? Jesus, it was only a month ago, Reed!”
I held my face in my hands as the throbbing headache grew sharper.
“Stop yelling!” I shouted, which didn’t help matters at all.
Instead of saying anything else, Tate gripped my left arm and pulled me towards the bathroom.
“Let go of me,” I hissed, trying to pull my arm back.
But I was so dizzy that I couldn’t get my proper footing, and nearly tripped.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. But one way or another, Ree, you’re getting in that fucking shower.”
I gave up trying to pull away from his iron grip and let him guide me. I was too weak from lack of sleep and not eating.
Next thing I knew I was shoved into my shower and hot water sprayed my body.
“I guess I should be grateful it’s not freezing cold!” I snapped.
“Don’t tempt me,” Tate replied.
I blinked the water from my eyes and realized he was standing in the shower with me. In his jeans and t-shirt which were now soaking wet. I glanced down at my naked body, leaner now, and in bad need of manscaping.
Like I gave a shit about how I looked. What did it matter anyway?
Years ago, I’d have dreamt of this moment. Well, not me being hungover, but being in the shower with Tate. Then I mentally berated myself for even going there.
“This isn’t how I imagined our first shower together,” I muttered sarcastically and turned my back.
